Honest Eyes
by ZanNaz
Summary: Chuck/Blair. Shenanigans in Paris … of the commitment kind that is.
1. Heart of Glass

A/N: Hey guys! I really wanted to get another chapter of TBD out but I haven't had a bunch of time so I just wanted to do something Chuck/Blair in the meantime. It's obviously a little more sensual than my other fics so far so just a warning ;) I have this planned as a two shot but if you like it I could easily turn it into a multi-chaptered fic so review… review … review! You know how I love them (:

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The ceremony is quiet, although the actions are loud and brash in every small and significant way. It's an affair filled with costume jewellery and intention. For the first time in his life, he knows that he isn't making a mistake, he's the cause of the silly grin that stretches across her ruby lips, rising into the browns of her eyes, and he wishes for nothing more than a million of the same nights spent in exactly the same way. He falters only momentarily, marvelling at the pace of his own devotion, and with one deep breath and a thousand promises ... Chuck Bass says 'I do.'

And nothing but adoration swells in his throat.

They leave the chapel as they came, only now they are much more than they were.

Chuck always imagined weddings to be lavish unnecessary affairs, the work of money spent and imagination and perhaps for a moment he frets, as they dance down the street, that he has unknowingly taken something from Blair, the first in a string of disappointments she surely expects, but then he catches her eye, holds her petite frame in his arms, and the doubts fall away. Disintegrating.

"I love you," She whispers into his sweater and his heart hammers against his chest.

"I love you more," He teases, pressing his dry lips to her forehead. She jabs him in the stomach playfully and breaks into a run. It's unexpected and Chuck finds himself panicking as she moves further and further away, was this a mistake? But then, before he knows it, he's running after her, laughing with abandon.

At night, after making love as husband and wife, the new titles that bulk up and lay on their nightstand, Blair rests her head on his chest. She's tracing circles on his shoulder blade, hot breath against his skin, "Do you think they'll be mad?"

He props himself on his elbows and sighs, long and ragged. It's an intricate question with so many layers and the force of it crashes against him, wondering. Silence fills their hotel room and he knows he must say something reassuring before her brow wrinkles and she worries, if she hasn't already, because he doesn't want their first night of marriage to be laden with the nagging question of their parents, their friends, the city of New York.

"I think," He begins, falling back onto the pillow, "that they'll definitely be surprised."

"Dorota's going to have a fit," Blair counters in all seriousness. "It will be all, _you're too young _this and _I can't believe you_ that." She groans and uncurls her body, eyes falling on her husbands frame as she nestles further into the mattress. He strokes her cheek and nothing more is said on the subject. In fact, the night passes much as the day before it had, in a blur of limbs and kisses beneath the Parisian skyline.

Every movement alive with implication.

Two years ago he couldn't have imagined himself here, clutching Blair's hips as she rides him towards pleasure, but he suddenly can't wish to know anything but the curves of her milky body as she climaxes with a whimper and her wedding band glitters in the darkness. Because he is more hers than she could ever begin to know.

Even at eighteen, as she rolls off of him and under the covers, their hands clasping one another, he is certain with every bone in his body, that he will never want another woman.


	2. Of Sunday

A/N: Thank you so much to the seven people who reviewed! (I don't normally do 'shout out's' but I'm in that mood today I guess: **ChairloveK, Krism, Ita, Batgirl2992, thegoodgossipgirl, ronan03 and HnM skinnys **... you guys are amazing!) I don't really know what I'm going to do with this story ... but I'm tentatively continuing it (I don't know for how long) Review please if you have time (:

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The rain drips down her nose, onto the pavement and into the gutters. She's soaked, shivers sparking up and down her spine as she clutches the collar of his jacket. Trying to keep her teeth from chattering, she looks up at his angular jaw and he pulls her further into the warmth of his coat. Blair is anything but flawless in this moment, thawed vapour rolling off her lips, the cold pressing against her cheeks, damp curls frizzed around her neck, but he covers as much of her as he can and she barely notices the storm.

Four weeks ago she graduated from high school and now she's two thousand miles away from home, and the man holding her is legally hers. She has no idea how it got this way, how it manages to be so intricately confusing and yet make any sense. She's trailing a new path, only she doesn't know where it leads and yet, she's never felt more ... love.

Water continues to pour from the sluggish grey clouds that move across the London skyline and she hooks her fingers around his ear, tracing the stubble on his cheek with her own. Hours pass, maybe only minutes, seconds even ... she can't tell ... but she knows that she doesn't want to move from this bench, the tiny park they stumbled upon. She wants to sit here just a little longer, stuck in the rain, coveted by the blaze of Chuck's adoration beneath the evergreen trees.

They are their own hide-out.

There is an intimacy that she can't quite categorize in the way he looks at her, glitter in the corners of his irises, and when he speaks it's pliable and soft. "You're freezing," She feels him loop his arms tighter around her waist, "If we stay out here any longer you'll get sick."

Chuck Bass, concern lining his words, a fret almost. It's unbelievable.

She thinks of her marriage to him, this reformed version of the boy who used to show up to her birthday parties drunk on scotch and giddy with the news of half-naked women flanking his fathers' side, and it's the stupidest most rational contradicting thing she's done but she never wants to take it back.

Blair rests her head on his shoulder, watching the raindrops fall onto the grass and she can barely think of anything but the burn of Chuck's fingertips on her flesh, the plains of his face, the body underneath his grey shirt.

How did this even happen? Weaknesses watered down, signed on the dotted line of marriage certificates, travel visas, a slew of foreign countries and vibrant hotels. A honeymoon patched together in the sincerest of ways. A year ago she didn't even know he could exhibit anything but lust and alcoholism, much less commitment and it draws her to him, keeping her lost in his presence.

"Fine," She relents with a dramatic sigh, peeling herself from the bench, "Let's go."

He's smirking, that smile she knows so well, a thousand secrets locked on his tongue, as he grabs her hand and they run across the street. She laughs, throwing back her head, because her husband is beautiful and right now, under the afternoon clouds of a Sunday in Manchester, they belong to each other, before other things begin to filter in.

Soon, they will have to face New York and she knows it won't be easy to keep holding his hands, guarding his heart, but she's committed to something, anything, that keeps him beside her. She'll fight for whatever this is because it's strong enough to make her dizzy with appreciation and he's so much more than she ever knew he could be.

They are simpler together than apart.


	3. Merry Happy

A/N: To everyone who reviewed and continues to review: Thankyouthankyou! Now, I just finished watching the season finale and all I'm going to say is ... DEFINITLEY pull out your tissues before watching it. Needless to say I needed some CB fluff and goodness without too much cheesiness ... so here we are. Review if you can because they get me all hyper towards writing more! (:

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They lay thigh to thigh lounging in the claw foot tub, hands on hips, fingertips treading water. The glasses of champagne fizz and go flat on the marble floor. Chuck Bass doesn't care. He leans back, free to roam every inch of Blair's milky skin. This is perfection. This is everything. She is everything and he wishes he didn't have to move, to end this moment as it must eventually end.

But he reminds himself that she is not every other woman and she cannot escape him, nor by the hooded stare, does he suppose she is thinking anything of the sort. He squeezes her calf, pressing his lips to the thin layer of bubbles that reside there, she grins and wiggles her foot against the other end of the tub.

"Are you as happy as I am?" He finally asks, his fingers slowly trailing down her leg, moving upwards.

"Happy?" She sighs, a moan escaping her lips, "I'm more than that."

He wants to press, wants to tell her that he's never been as happy as he is now. He wants to tell her but he gets lost in the folds of her body, the lukewarm water, dizzy with the champagne and drunk on her beauty and he tries with every bone in his body to express it physically. He'd rather this, absorbed by her, than use the words he doesn't know he can say just as perfectly as this minute with his wife allows.

When they finally exit the bathroom, she leads him to the bed. "Chuck Bass," Her whisper is sweet, full, "I've never loved anyone as much as I love you." And somehow it is said, the words passed between them and he answers with a gentle kiss, prodding her tongue with his own.

"Always?" He's being stupidly sentimental but he can't help it, the raw elegance of Scotland has cast a spell on him, Blair Waldorf has him bewitched. He never wants her to leave him, he doesn't know what that would mean, how he could survive.

"And forever," She smiles, grabbing his shoulders. He forgets to worry, to think of anything but her form underneath the sheets, the taste of her, the smell of her perfume.

Chuck forgets to be anything but what he is, so deeply in love that he doesn't know how to process it, skirting around the edges of his own devotion with sticky fingers because he wants all of this and nothing else and for the first time, he moves towards the future with someone beside him. A Bass no longer alone.

Blair takes him into her arms, stroking his damp hair and sometime later, the rhythm of her body against his, lulls him to sleep.

He awakes to the sun as it moves over the Scottish highlands and into the sky, and he calls downstairs for room service. She rolls over and blinks, kissing his naked hip with her lips. Chuck brushes his knuckles to her cheek as he orders coffee, scones, Belgian chocolate and everything else she could possibly think to eat.

After all, he wants nothing less than to give her the world, on a silver platter, for all the time he denied her his heart when it never belonged to another.


End file.
